This Time I Saved Her
by Dalmatian Rex
Summary: Dazed, starved, and hallucinating, Christian is admitted to an insane asylum in England. As he steadily recovers, he can't help but be attracted to his schizophrenic roommate Mary. Will he once again have to see his love die? And will Mary ever be cured?
1. Chapter 1

This Time I Saved Her

Chapter 1

*Disclaimer: I do not own Moulin Rouge. Neither do you, probably. The characters that are from Moulin Rouge are not of mine own invention, because if they were then I would be a genius. I do own the characters that aren't from Moulin Rouge, and the story line is mine. Nuff said. *

It all began after I came back to England. I was unstable, hopeless, and brokenhearted after the previous proceedings at the Moulin Rouge. I was going back to my home a broken man, a man who had lost everything worth living for.

_Turning back for home_

_You know I'm feeling so alone_

_I can't believe_

I was full of a strange desire, a desire for my homeland and her familiarity. It gripped me with a passion, and dragged me away from my despair so I could pack and bid Paris farewell. Toulouse and the others didn't try and stop me, even they knew I couldn't stew in my pain forever.

_Suddenly,  
I'm not half the man I used to be,  
There's a shadow hanging over me,  
Oh, yesterday came suddenly._

I stowed away on the _Paula Eleanor_, my money being gone and spent. As the wind and waves tossed me up and down in the dark closet where they stored extra supplies, my mind would amuse itself by playing tricks on me. It would conjure up hideous monsters with terrifying roars that would keep me up all night shivering in a corner. Then the next day it would create such images of light and beauty and Satine that I would weep when they left.

_Cause you're the only song I want to hear  
A melody softly soaring through my atmosphere_

It was then that I realized that I was completely and utterly mad. It probably didn't help my madness that I went most days without the merest scrap of food or water, so by the end of my voyage I was insane, starved, and dehydrated.

I spent my first night back in England in a prison cell, a cabin boy having found me after he heard my screaming after a particularly bad hallucination. I remember clinging to his knees like he was my savior, blessing him, his family, his children, and anything else I could think of. I must have looked the picture of a madman, with my disheveled dirty clothes, my wild wide open eyes, and my unkempt knotted beard and hair.

In the cell, my mind must have shown me something truly horrifying, for I found myself hysterically screaming and weeping, hiding under the tiny cot that constituted as a bed. The guards finally had to sedate me to stop the noise from upsetting the other prisoners.

I woke up in a haze, aware of two people standing over me. One of them was the chief, I could tell because he had the shiniest boots I had seen in a long time. The other was a doctor of some sorts, with a white coat and a pair of little round glasses. He was staring at me very intently, as if I were a piece of furniture he was considering to purchase. He examined my body, poked my ribs and checked my pulse.

"He needs to be sent to a hospital, Chief. Look at him! He's obviously dehydrated and malnourished! Not to mention his insanity! Where did you find him?"

"The captain of the _Paula Eleanor _said he was a stowaway. No papers or identification of any kind, just a suitcase full of papers and a typewriter." The doctor shook his head and sighed.

"Where do all of these mad people come from? Where do they all belong?" My eyes met that of the police chief, our gazes locked onto each others. In one look I tried to pour all my loneliness and heartache, hoping naively that he of all people would understand. He gulped and looked away.

"They aren't insane Doctor, not as much as they're lonely. All of them crazies we get are more lonely than anything else." He had understood.

_All the lonely people,_

_Where do they all come from?_

_All the lonely people,_

_Where do they all belong?_

The doctor looked puzzled and grunted. He got up to his feet and said,

"I suppose we could send the chap to Father Owen. He would know what to do. Tell me son," He asked, his head leaning in towards mine.

"Do you believe in God?" I looked the doctor up and down and curled up into a ball, resting my head on my knees.

"I think so." I said, my voice no more than a murmur.

"Are you sure?"

"No." My gaze darted around the room. I was desperately trying to look anywhere but the doctor, for he had asked a very prickling question. The truth was, I had lost faith in the Lord a long time ago. After losing Satine, I didn't believe in God anymore. I wanted to avoid this subject, because I thought selfishly inside myself that if God existed, he was damned for making me lose Satine.

"God has never helped me in my life." I said, looking gravely at the doctor. He sighed and started polishing his glasses.

"You might want to start believing, boy. We're going to send you to a psychiatric institute. It's a good place and it should help you."

He then went on, droning about the good things about Father Owen and his "home for the mentally unstable." My mind ran far way from his words, back to a Bohemian world full of love and beauty.

"Christian, what are you thinking?"

Satine walked across the room and sat next to me on the cot. She was as beautiful as I remembered, probably even more so. Her red silk dress rustled as she crossed her ankles, her ruby earrings swaying softly. Tears sprang to my eyes and my heartache came back tenfold.

"My love. You're dead. What are you doing here? In England?" I murmured hesitantly, my eyes never leaving her out of my sight. She threw her head back and laughed, her red lips curling into a broad smile. I wanted to kiss those lips.

"Christian, my dear. I'll never truly be dead if you keep on seeing me like this."

"I'm so sorry Satine." She furrowed her eyebrows and touched my cheek with her hand. I didn't feel her fingers, no matter how much I wanted to hold them and stroke them and kiss them. But I never would be able to do so ever again.

"Why are you sorry?"

"I couldn't save you."

She leaned her forehead against mine and whispered,

"You couldn't have stopped my death no matter what you did. I am fated to be nothing more than a whisper in your memory. Eventually I will disappear altogether."

Proving her point, she leaned forward as if to kiss me, than vanished into nothingness. Then I started sobbing and rocking to myself, my head buried in my hands.

"Boy? Are you all right?" I could hear the doctor's voice above me. I curled myself up tighter ad wept, my arms clinging to my knees.

"My love. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." I moaned, closing my eyes. I felt something sharp enter my arm and I screamed as fluid painfully rushed into my body. My limbs grew heavy and as sleep overtook me I could hear the doctor's final judgment.

"I don't care if he doesn't believe in God, Officer. He _needs_ to go to Father Owen." And then I sank into slumber, and my nightmares returned to me once again.


	2. Chapter 2

This Time I Saved Her

A/N- Okay, there were definitely TWO chapters of this story the last time I looked. What the hell happened? Anyways, I tried to recreate Chapter 2 here, so hopefully this one will stay. By the way, I'm dropping the song lyrics. They were giving me a headache. Sorry.

I woke up in a room full of white. It screamed at me, making me feel small and dirty, and good God, how could one color be so loud? I curled up into a ball, trying to block out the throbbing pain, but it was so glaring, so violent. It ripped through my clenched hands like wet tissue paper, and blasted its way into my head. I tried to scream, but all that came out was a small whimper.

"Satine…" That name. That beautiful name. No other name had I uttered so lovingly, so worshipful. It had escaped my lips so often that sometimes it became less of a name and more of a mantra. And with nothing but that mantra, I lay there, and let its rhythm soothe me like a mothers embrace.

No, like a lovers embrace.

"Christian." A voice softly whispered. I bolted upright, my eyes finally taking in my surroundings. The overbearing whiteness came from the walls, which were blank, except for two windows. These were set high up on the wall, and had three large rusting metal bars each. But what really caught my attention was the door. It too was made of metal, but was cleaner, with two slots.

Satine stood right in front of it.

"Christian…" She whispered again, her eyes softening. I drank her image in like a drunk drinks whiskey, absorbing every single detail I could before she disappeared.

"Where am I, Satine?" I said, walking forward to meet her. A single tear trailed its way down her cheek, and she looked away from me.

"Christian, some doctors are going to come in. They're trying to take you away from me." She faced me and cupped my face in her slender hands.

"Don't let them." She said. And with that, she was gone again, leaving me alone, in a room full of white. My hands dropped to my sides, it was then that I realized that they had been trying to hold onto her. How foolish was I, to try and hold onto empty visions!

Then, suddenly, the door was thrust open, and a nurse came in with a metal tray.

"Hello, Christian." She said, her clipped voice full of routine. "I brought you your lunch. When Father Owen permits, you will be able to have lunch on the veranda, if you wish. Just push the plates through the bottom slot when you're finished."

"I'm not hungry." She sighed then, just a small one, and placed the tray on the bed. Giving me a weary smile she said,

"I'll leave it here then, for when you're hungry. You might want to hurry though; Father Owen will be visiting you in a few minutes." My stomach turned with dread at the thought.

"What's he going to do to me?" I asked, trying to keep my voice from quavering. Pausing in the open door, the nurse turned to me and gave me another smile, this one more reassuring and less tired than the other one.

"He's going to make you better, Christian."


End file.
